


Wounded Deer

by writing_and_worrying



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alexis | Quackity-centric, Animal Instincts, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Dave | Technoblade-centric, Death, Dehumanization, Hunters & Hunting, Respawn is ON, Temporary Character Death, alex quackity gets hunted in the woods thats it, based on techno's 'do you feel tired quackity' speech, respawn logic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_and_worrying/pseuds/writing_and_worrying
Summary: Quackity runs for his life through the snowy forest. Technoblade persues.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), seriously there is nothing shippy about this, this is my least homoerotic work
Comments: 29
Kudos: 156





	Wounded Deer

**Author's Note:**

> Yo fr read the tags for the warnings :)
> 
> If you like this fic you might like my other fic 'man is condemned to be free'. Be warned though, that one is a little more intense. Basically, I like writing pain and violence so stay tuned for more. 
> 
> Today's victim: Alex Quackity.

Quackity’s heart beat hard and fast in his chest, each laboured breath coming out in a wheeze. Heavy footsteps thudded against the forest floor as he ran, kicking up snow and dead leaves in his haste. He didn’t dare look back in fear of running into a tree or tripping on a root. The world around him spun in flashes of colour against his wild, unblinking eyes, blanched sheets lined with red and edged in purple, a centre of honeyed brown and pinprick black. Doe-like.

Thistles tore a patch from his jeans. He stumbled but didn’t fall, righting himself without slowing down. His mind raced and his thoughts blurred, trapped within a pool of dirty water filling his head, swirled and shaken and frothing with yellow foam. Nothing came to him but the hunger to run. He had to run.

Oh, god. It was now the terror caught up with him, the weight of the situation and the hopelessness of the chase. Absent from his body, his legs pushed him forward, his own sobs going unnoticed amongst the pounding in his head. The instinctual knowledge that he was prey overwhelmed him. He couldn't see, he couldn't see,  _ he couldn't see. _

Just a step away, the hunter, Technoblade, walked, his wine-red cape flowing behind him. It disturbed the leaves on the ground, busied the snow. Early morning rays filtered through tall, dark trees, basking his face in light. He hummed, content, and tapped his fingertips against the hilt of his axe with a smirk.

His game left such a pretty trail to follow, upturned plants and melting footprints and little specks of blood. Its struggle was clear in the snow. Tracking his catch was as easy as watching, waiting, and biding his time. And Technoblade was a patient man. Patient, in the way he waited for weeks for his father’s visits. Patient, in the way he tended to his farm every day. Patient, in the way he kept his weapons and armour in perfect condition. He could be patient now, too.

Hysteria bled through Quackity's veins. His hands would shake if he wasn't running so fast. Lightheaded spells came and went, pushing against him as he tried to navigate the unending woods. He couldn’t pause. He couldn’t stop. There was nothing else to do.

Distant and detached, he could feel himself lose energy, his pace faltering ever so slightly even as his body screamed at him to run. The burning in his legs and chest pulled him down, adrenaline only taking him so far. It will be over soon. He was wearing himself out, just like Techno had said.

Techno, the man he had met last night. Quackity had been stumbling around, a poor attempt of finding his way back to his own home in the dark. The hybrid found him in a clearing.

How this had started, neither man knew. Somewhere between meeting and talking about ancient history. Techno's expression had darkened, and he'd looked at Quackity like he was an animal, and everything went to shit. Now he ran, pulse in his ears and tears flying from his face. No one could save him out here in the woods. No one would hear him scream.

Techno  _ laughed _ , watching the poor fawn stumble from afar. The voices in his head repeated phrases over and over, begging for fresh blood, demanding a sacrifice, demanding death. They rallied like a chorus, louder and louder as the hunt went on. It spurred him to walk faster. Couldn’t let his catch get away.

The creature he'd met was a perfect match, so peculiar and curious, so trusting. He had seen nothing like it before. It came to him and they had bonded, though it felt like a smudge in his memory. Maybe he had fed it, given it a head start. That was sweet of him.

The axe in its chest would be sweeter. Its blood would be sweeter.

A scream and a sickening snap, echoed through the forest. Techno smiled to himself. Finally, his catch had fallen. 

No, not fallen, Techno discovered. Its body writhed on the floor, throat ensnared in chicken wire. One of the traps Techno had left around his forest, designed to capture bears and other great beasts. He felt it squandered on such a weak creature, but a kill was a kill, and blood was blood. He wouldn't let it go to waste.

The animal clawed at its neck, desperately trying to pull the snare away. It choked and squirmed, grating sobs pulling through its frame as it kicked, muscles twitching from the force and exhaustion of it all. The surrounding snow shifted and churned, turning to sludge.

Techno took a step closer, marvelling in the way its head snapped towards him and it stopped struggling to look upon him with pure, mortal fear. It panted, hot breaths coming out in clouds. The voices in his head laughed, lauding him as the greatest hunter known to man, the Blood God. He had captured something unique, strange, rare. Their screams almost drowned out the prey's own, chants of praise egging him on when he pulled his dagger from his belt.

_ Oh, but the axe would look so pretty sticking out of its chest. _ Breaking ribs and piercing through until it left the other side. What a sight it would be, to see the creature twitch and choke in its last pitiful moments. But no, he wasn’t a monster. The axe wasn’t for killing animals. He could use it to butcher the creature and take it home. 

Quackity was freezing cold and boiling hot all at once. His hair stuck to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his skin burnt like fire. The ice around him melted into mud, dirtying his clothes as he scratched against the ground, neck drawn down by the sharp wire. His hands sank into the wet earth, cold numbing them and turning them a horrible purple-blue. 

Warm red dripped down his collarbone, every pull on the snare sinking it deeper into the skin. He would decapitate himself if he wasn’t careful, but with the hunter standing over him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

All he saw was dirt, slick and black like oil. It splattered against his skin when he dropped, fatigue gripping his muscles in a quiet finale, the last bouts of energy sapped and the last of his willpower gone. He stopped moving, heaving sobs into the earth as the pain in his chest took hold. 

The ground was soft. Soft and cool against his feverish skin. He sank into it like it was a bed, sighing. Tears of relief and pain and fear shuddered through his core, a comforting warmth buzzing around his heart. His head felt separate from his body. Was he dying?

Techno stepped an inch further towards his catch. Holding out the knife, he looked down at it as a hawk looks down at a rabbit. "Shhh. It'll be over soon." His words brushed the air, low and calm, practised hundreds of times. He liked to compare it to a farmer talking to panicked livestock.

He didn't know why he spoke to his prey, his words meant nothing to it. But he liked to give the animals a last moment of peace before finishing the hunt. Give them a simple journey to whatever afterlife awaited them. It was nicer that way.

The cool blade sat itself neatly on the creature’s neck, collecting the blood his snare had caused. It seemed peaceful until he pushed the blade down. Techno gave a shout of indignation, voices jeering when his catch jerked away. It was moving far too much, he couldn’t get a clean cut across its neck. 

Instead, Techno caught its arm, tearing the skin there with a deep, long gash. The animal wailed, pain breaking into its once subdued state. Techno cursed. As much as he loved the hunt, he didn’t want the creature to suffer.

Above Quackity, the knife dropped his own blood onto his face. It fell in his mouth. "Please—please! Stop! Don't do this!" His pleas devolved into a prayer muttered and whimpered in his native language. The man above him paused, a look of confusion crossing his form.

"Heh?" Techno stared down at the animal. Was he going insane? He'd given personality to his catches before, but never a voice. The ensemble inside him still yearned for blood, no longer cheering but ordering. They needed blood. 

He shivered. What the hell was going on?

The creature thrashed against the ground. "Don't hurt me! Please don't kill me!" Techno's mind sparked at that.  _ Kill kill kill kill kill _ . He shook his head, staring at the animal. Its eyes were familiar.

"How?" The question came out with a grunt. He addressed it to no one. The animal screamed something at him, but it didn't really register. This was getting annoying. Maybe if he used the axe… 

A shadow passed overhead, going ignored by the bloodthirsty hybrid. Quackity pulled at the snare around his neck, exhausted sobs escaping him with each failed attempt at freedom. Somewhere in his head, he knew that even getting out of the trap wouldn't save him; the hunter towering over him having drained his energy to nothing. He had no weapons and no armour to defend himself. He was dead.

Oh, he was dead. The hunter was going to kill him. A sharp, metallic sound stabbed through his ears, then the axe was out of its place on the hunter’s belt. Quackity  _ mewled _ . 

The pounding of his own heart filled his ears, blotting out all other sounds. Oh, fuck. He was going to die. Another cry left him as painful realisation really kicked in. Dread sat heavy in his aching lungs, wire and fear constricting his airways, a lightheaded fuzz clouding his mind. He was hyperventilating. He was so  _ scared _ .

It shone above him, the axe. The edge was sharp and sliced the air with ease. Then it came down, and down, and Quackity screamed in time with the voices, and there was a terrible  _ crunch _ . Bones split, ribs cracked, a broken gasp escaped the prey. His tongue twitched, visible through his silent scream, and his muscles spasmed against the mud. The axe went right through. It went right through a  _ human _ body.

Above, the hunter's eyes widened, something clicking inside his head. "Oh—oh no—" Frantic thoughts and trembling hands were all that Quackity knew, his vision tunnelling beyond anything he’d experienced. The pain didn’t even reach him, it all happened so fast. 

He saw pink. He saw nothing. His body slumped to the floor.

A figure landed behind the hunter, grey feathers floating through the air with disturbed leaves. Techno turned, regret lacing his body and the anger of the voices tormenting his head. The figure grimaced and took off his hat.

"Good morning. What're you doing, mate?" His father’s wings tucked themselves away behind his back, and he looked past Techno to see the mangled body with an axe sticking out of its chest. The poor kid looked far too young, but so did his son.

Techno fell to his knees, the weight of his actions dragging him down. “Phil… help.” He spat out the words, running a trembling hand through his hair.

Phil, kind, gentle Phil, stepped around his son’s despairing form and crouched next to the body. The young man’s neck was ensnared, but the killing blow came from the axe without a doubt. A small spike of disappointment ran through Phil’s head. He’d given Techno that axe. 

With a careful hand, he turned over the boy’s left wrist, letting out a breath of relief when he saw two black lines tattooed into it. “He’ll respawn soon, son. Two lives left. You didn’t kill him for good.” Techno sat with his head in his hands.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know,” he said. The voices blurred together in his head, fading fast into white noise. Deep-rooted hatred burned within him, wishing he was someone else, wishing Phil would just stop him now before he hurt someone again. It was only a matter of time.

But his father was understanding to the point of annoyance. “It’s okay, Tech.” The nickname made Techno want to cry, but that would be too much. “We can get through this.” The body went ignored behind them as it disintegrated into dust. 

Far away, a young man sat on the edge of his bed and shuddered, unable to process what happened to him. Techno rested his head on his father’s chest, looking out over the snow with an expression that most would see as neutral, but his family would recognise as the start of many hours of thinking to come.

Phil hugged his son, wishing away the voices that plagued them both. “You’ll be okay, son.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Eyy if you liked this, gimme a comment. I love those. Especially the detailed ones *hint hint nudge nudge*
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you have a nice day :D


End file.
